


I Should Have Seen You Sooner

by trash_elf



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, but mostly it's just dumb and soft, some light porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 22:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15520422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_elf/pseuds/trash_elf
Summary: Stan Marsh is horny and Craig Tucker is touch-starved and, frankly, they both think the other is pretty goddamn hot.





	1. Craig

Craig looked really good.

 

Stan had, naturally, noticed Craig before today, noticed him the minute Stan started noticing boys and realizing that wow, okay, yeah he’s not totally straight. Maybe Stan looked at Craig first because Craig was gay or maybe he looked at him because he wanted to, because he had always looked at him, because he was _hot_.

 

Who really knows? Jury’s still out on that one.

 

Regardless, today Stan was really looking at Craig because it had been _months_ since he and Wendy broke up and Stan was, frankly, horny, and also because Craig was shirtless and his muscles had gotten significantly more toned as of late, and there were beads of sweat rolling down his face that, ironically, made Stan go dry at the mouth.

 

He probably looked like some kind of freak, pausing in the locker room midway through taking his shirt off to stop at just _look_ at Craig Tucker, but hey, whatever dignity he had at the moment was being ignored in favour of the warm buzz in his stomach.

 

And then Craig turned at looked at him inquisitively, and Stan was rudely snapped back to the present.

 

“See something you like Marsh?”

 

Craig said it with a slight smirk, and Stan blushed mutedly and yanked his shirt the rest of the way off. He, honestly, wasn’t that concerned about being caught. Craig was nice-ish once you got to know him, and football had forced Stan to do just that. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, because it also meant that Stan had become acquainted with his abs. And his biceps. And that wide v that led into his sweatpants.

 

God, Stan was horny.

 

He shook his head and continued to shrug off his dirt-smeared uniform and start to pull on his plain t-shirt and jeans. He would shower but, somehow, he didn’t feel like standing totally nude under warm water with his head swimming of thoughts of Craig was the best idea.

 

Stand slipped on his shoes and headed for the door, using his towel to wipe some of the residual sweat from his forehead. Before he could even exit the locker room, Craig had fallen casually into step with him.

 

“Not showering today?”

 

Stan turned to him and raised an eyebrow as they entered the hallway and headed towards the parking lot.

 

“I have shit to do at home. Why do you care?”

 

Craig’s slight smile that was reserved for friends only (which confused Stan because he wasn’t under the impression that their relationship had exactly evolved to the point of friends yet) appeared on his face.

 

“I don’t. But I was wondering if you could give me a ride home.”

 

Ah. Hence the smile.

 

“I thought Clyde drove you home?”

 

Craig shrugged lightly and opened the door to the parking lot, allowing Stan to exit first.

 

“Usually, but he let Bebe borrow his car.”

 

Stan nodded lightly and walked over to his truck, unlocking it and letting Craig hop into the passenger seat. Without Stan ever actually agreeing to give Craig a ride, they both knew he would.

 

The ride was silent, and Stan let himself glance over at Craig a couple of times, quickly tracing the outline of his face with his eyes.

 

He felt the warmth return to his stomach.

 

He looked over again, his eyes landing on Craig’s lips.

 

God, he wanted to kiss him.

 

The warmth rose to his chest and Stan bit his lip and looked back at the road, turning a corner slowly and pulling up next to Craig’s house.

 

Craig left the car unceremoniously, slamming the door behind him and grunting out a simple “thanks”.

 

Stan nodded and smiled and kept driving, stopping in front of his own house a few minutes later, the warmth in his chest still present. It felt like it was buzzing and pressing up against his ribcage, like it was going to burst through his skin and pour out of his mouth. But, in a good way. In the best way, because right now all Stan wanted was for this warmth to envelop him, to swallow him whole, because he felt nervous and he felt _good_ and he wanted more.

 

Stan Marsh thought of Craig Tucker and smiled like an idiot, ignoring the fact that this feeling wasn’t due to the fact that he was horny.


	2. Stan

Stan looked fucking fantastic.

 

Craig had just started noticing Stan recently, but _man_ had he ever started noticing him. Craig and Tweek had split at the beginning of junior year, and now, two months into senior, he was going through some serious boyfriend withdrawal.

 

It started in August. Stan and Wendy had recently broken up, and the football season was about to start. They had been doing double sessions to prepare for the first game in September, and everyone was fucking exhausted. Stan was pushing himself through practice with an agenda, barely even noticing anything outside of the drills.

 

This was step one in Craig noticing him. Stan was cute, but determined Stan was _hot._ Pushing himself through exercise after exercise and being able to tackle Craig like he was nothing was something new, something exciting, something that made Craig Tucker move him up his private mental list of guys-i-would-fuck.

 

Step two was, once again, kind of a basic one. This step revolved around the fact that Stan had built up some serious muscle. The constant drills were doing him some real good, because when he whipped off his shirt in the locker room after the first week of double sessions, Craig practically drooled. This secured Stan the number two spot on the list.

 

The final step in Craig officially noticing Stan was at a party Token threw before school started. They would finally, _finally_ , be starting senior year in two days (and, more importantly, be back down to single daily practices). It was pretty much just the football team hanging out in the living room, Stan situated beside Craig on one of the smaller couches, tired and several beers deep. His eyes were lidded and he was slipping over, inches away from laying his head on Craig’s shoulder. It was at this point that Craig moved to take the beer from Stan’s hand and help him sit back up.

 

“You okay there Marsh?”

 

Craig took the bottle from his hand and placed it on the table, their hands brushing slightly as he did so. It was at this point that Stan looked up at Craig, messy hair in his face and stars in his eyes. That was step three. That fucking soft look made Stan Marsh land on a list of his own.


	3. Neat

God, Stan was so fucked.

 

He didn’t know what switch in him flipped that all of a sudden the thought of Craig made his legs turn to jelly and his cheeks get warm, but whatever it was it was turned on and it wouldn’t turn back off and Stan was fucked.

 

He was extra fucked because now Craig, fully clothed and taking history notes, was enough to make Stan stop and stare like some kind of love stricken preteen. It was stupid and horrible and it made him dread football practice, in which he would have to be close to Craig and run drills with him and see him shirtless.

 

It filled him with dread, but it also filled him with excitement.

 

This was so dumb.

 

Stan felt like such a stupid kid, staring at Craig from a distance and not talking to him because of the ever-present warmth in his chest and his stomach and his whole fucking body.

 

It was dumb and Stan was convinced that if he just got laid it would go away. He was convinced that he was just horny, and that Craig was just hot, and that this warm feeling was just lust, and that if he got laid at the after game party on Friday that would be it.

 

Problem fucking solved.

 

So, here he was, one week and three painful football practices later. He was standing in Token’s living room and nursing a warm beer and scanning the room for anyone that might be able to serve as a solution to his ever-growing problem.

 

Stan defaulted to looking at girls, like the cheerleaders at the party, like Red who was leaning casually on the counter. Like the people he felt like he should like, the people he had openly found attractive in the past. The people who should work just fucking fine for his purposes.

 

But he couldn’t even go over and talk to them. It just felt . . . wrong?

 

Stan had only ever done shit with girls in the past and wanted to stay in that comfort zone (plus, there were more straight girls here than guys who liked guys).

 

But it didn’t feel like girls were going to scratch that itch, and Stan wasn’t even entirely sure why until Craig fucking Tucker came in from the backyard looking pissed off and soaking wet.

 

He had clearly been pushed into the pool fully clothed (likely by Clyde), as his shirt was practically vacuum-sealed to his chest and his jeans and sneakers were abandoned outside to dry.

 

Upon entry he received a snicker from Token, who quickly corrected himself once Craig shot him a look. Instead, he gave him a half-pitiful-half-amused look and gestured upstairs.

 

“You can go get some dry clothes from my room.”

 

Stan had not heard any of this, for he was far too focused on Craig’s boxer briefs, which clearly showed the outline of his dick. This, of course, was the event that made something in Stan’s brain click (albeit, not entirely).

 

Craig nodded and headed towards the stairs, at which point Stan was knocked out of his daze. In a wild rush of confidence, which was largely influenced by the intoxicating sexual desire he still felt, Stan followed Craig, grabbing his wrist and causing him to turn around and face him.

 

Stan’s pupils were blown wide and his cheeks were flushed, which in and of itself was enough to make Craig flustered, but what he said next nearly killed him.

 

“I want to blow you.”

 

Stan barely even noticed as the words left his mouth, and once he did he released his grip on Craig’s wrist like he had been burned.

 

Craig, on the other hand, was still processing. Of course he thought Stan Marsh was hot, he had noticed him in the locker room (and on the field and in the hallways) but he never actually considered him to be in any way attainable.

 

Fuck, Craig didn’t even think he liked guys.

 

But here he was, Stan fucking Marsh, looking at him tentatively, his face getting redder by the second, his body looking like it was seconds away from bolting.

 

“Uh, neat.”

 

Stan, somehow, turned even redder and turned to run, but Craig was a little quicker and was able to grab his wrist.

 

“Wait, yes. I, uh, I mean yes. To the blowjob.”

 

They both looked at each other for a second before Stan relaxed slightly, allowing Craig to hold his wrist. Craig took that as a signal that the offer was still on the table, and turned back towards the staircase, pulling Stan behind him.


	4. Warm

Craig pulled Stan upstairs and made a b-line for the bathroom, quickly pushing him in and shutting the door behind them. The tension between them was thick and electric, and Craig’s hand felt hot were he touched Stan’s wrist. It felt hot and as if the skin there was fused together, as if he couldn’t let go even if he wanted to.

 

He didn’t want to.

 

He looked into Stan’s eyes, his back pressed against the cool bathroom door, his other hand fiddling behind him in an attempt to lock it.

 

Stan’s eyes were full with all kinds of wonder. His pupils were dilated and his irises were sprinkled with stars, and there wasn’t a hint of intoxication present.

 

That kind of hit Craig like a truck.

 

That meant that Stan Marsh, fully sober, had told him he wanted to blow him.

 

Craig sucked in a sharp breath, a shiver running up his spine and warmth spreading throughout his stomach and his cheeks.

 

Stan was faring no better. He, honestly, hadn’t meant to say what he did, and he certainly hadn’t expected Craig to say yes, and now he wasn’t sure what to do.

 

He didn’t know what to do except look into Craig’s eyes and hope that he would start something, initiate _something_ , because Stan sure as fuck wasn’t sure where he was supposed to start.

 

But then the lock clicked closed and Craig released a shaky breath and all the heat in Stan’s body collected in his stomach. He surged forward quickly and messily, pressing Craig up against the doorframe, sloppily capturing his lips. Stan Marsh kissed like his life depended on it, like he would die if his tongue wasn’t down Craig’s throat.

 

Craig kissed right back, finally letting go of Stan’s wrist to let his hand find purchase at his back, to get himself grounded before he let his mouth open, let Stan kiss the life out of him, let him suck and bite on his bottom lip.

 

Stan drew back, spit clinging to his mouth, eyes half-lidded and filled to the brim with lust. He could feel the heat swirling and jumping in his body, intensifying at whatever point he touched Craig, practically burning him from the inside out.

 

Stan wanted to be lit on fire.

 

He began pressing open-mouthed kisses to Craig’s neck, which garnered light and breathy moans in response. Soon Craig’s leg was moving between Stan’s and pressing into his crotch, causing Stan to let out a heavenly sound against Craig’s damp skin.

 

Craig pressed further and Stan bit down hard, which made Craig suck in a sharp breath and form a tighter grip on Stan’s back. Stan moved away from Craig’s neck, looking him in the eyes once more before grabbing at the heavy material of his wet t-shirt, pulling it upward, clearly intending for it to come off.

 

Craig moved away from the door and helped him, pulling his shirt up over his head. No sooner was it gone than Stan was pressing light kisses to Craig’s chest, trailing his abs with his lips.

 

Craig let out another moan before pulling Stan back upward so he could face him properly. Stan’s shirt was soaked from where he had been pressed into Craig’s chest, and Craig could just see the outline of his pecs beneath it. He moved his hand down to pull at its hem.

 

“Off.”

 

Stan quickly complied, yanking his shirt off and allowing Craig to trace his hands across his chest, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft skin and firm muscle.

 

Stan reveled in the attention, but quickly grew impatient of not having his mouth attached to Craig’s body. He grabbed Craig’s hands and moved them away from his chest, allowing him to move closer to him once again and palm his crotch.

 

“Fuck”

 

Craig’s exclamation was quick and breathy, and gave Stan all the permission he needed to sink lower down on Craig, kissing down his abdomen and hips, eventually reaching his crotch. He began to mouth Craig’s dick through his briefs, which were still wet and, at this point, left little to the imagination. This didn’t mean that Stan wasn’t eager to get them off, as he quickly hooked his fingers into the waistband and looked up at Craig for approval.

 

As if he fucking needed it. Craig was looking down at Stan Marsh, lips swollen and eyes blown wide, looking up at him for permission to blow him. As if Craig was going to say no.

 

He nodded aggressively, biting his lip and leaning his head back against the door, allowing Stan to fully remove his underwear. The goddamn _second_ that the cold material left his body it was replaced with Stan’s warm lips, which were inexperienced and eager and still wet from the way he went at Craig’s mouth.

 

Stan wasn’t entirely sure what possessed him to suck Craig’s dick in the first place, but god did he want to, god did he want to get Craig Tucker off. He licked and mouthed and tried his goddamn best not to use his teeth or choke himself, and he was loving it. Stan could feel himself getting harder just from sucking Craig’s dick.

 

Fuck.

 

At the same time, Craig was losing his mind. Stan might not be the best at giving blowjobs, but he was pretty darn enthusiastic about it, and that combined with his shining blue eyes and the way his hair was all messed up and in his face made Craig’s sexual stamina decrease about 70%.

 

“Jesus Marsh.”

 

At this, Stan pulled his mouth away and looked up at Craig disapprovingly.

 

“Call me Stan when I’m blowing you, asshole.”

 

Craig didn’t have time to respond because Stan was right back to work. He licked the underside of Craig’s dick slowly, his hands gripping at the inside of Craig’s thighs, his lips doing God’s work on Craig’s shaft.

 

Stan was genuinely enjoying this, and knew that soon enough he would come in his pants like a 13-year-old. But he couldn’t even think about that right now, because even though he was relieving some of his built up sexual tension, all he could think about was the fact that this was Craig Tucker, and that he wanted to hold his goddamn hand.

 

One of said hands tapped him on the shoulder, causing Stan to meet Craig’s equally blue and equally lustful eyes.

 

“You should, uh, you should probably stop now if you don’t plan on swallowing”

 

Stan hadn’t really thought too hard about that part, but he certainly wasn’t going to quit now. Instead of pulling off, he awkwardly reached one of his hands up to grab Craig’s, holding it uncomfortably beside him as Craig let out a serious of gasps and moans. Soon enough his body was quivering and shaking, and come was pouring down Stan’s throat.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 

Stan let it happen, not pulling off until the very end, and which point he licked the remainder from the tip and smiled up at Craig, sucking on his bottom lip.

 

Craig could barely fucking take it, watching Stan Marsh lick his lips after he just sucked dick like a champ. He hastily pulled Stan up and into a kiss, pressing him as close to his body as he could. He kissed the taste of himself from inside Stan’s mouth, and used the hand that Stan was not holding to push down his pants, giving him a lazy hand job to help him reach climax.

 

It didn’t take long.

 

Soon Stan was coming into Craig’s hand and moaning into his mouth and squeezing his hand tighter than he had ever squeezed anyone’s hand before. His body was shaking and the heat in his body was bouncing around wildly, connecting every point where Craig was touching him.

 

He felt amazing.

 

He rode out his orgasm by clinging to Craig desperately, and when it was over he pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes. He was no longer horny, but he still felt that warm buzz in his chest from looking at Craig Tucker.

 

Stan leaned forward into Craig’s chest and they both sunk slowly to the ground, leaning all their weight against the door behind them. Stan crawled into Craig’s lap, resting his head on his shoulder and breathing in the scent of his warm skin. Now that he wasn’t desperately horny, he was able to remember something.

 

“When I said I wanted to blow you earlier, did you say neat?”

 

Craig’s body froze up beneath him, before relaxing again once he recognized his casual tone.

 

“Yeah, yeah I fucking did.”

 

His voice was full of affection that trailed into amusement, and Stan let out a loud and barking laugh.

 

“You’re such a dork.”

 

Craig smiled and gripped Stan tighter, fondness blooming in his chest. Stan was also smiling, and couldn’t seem to make himself stop. He felt like a schoolgirl who had just had her first kiss with her crush, except that he had given a blowjob and had only done it because he was sexually frustrated.

 

Right?

 

No, Stan knew better than that at this point. He knew that the warm buzzing in his body was not from the residual high from his orgasm, and he knew that the strong urge to hold Craig’s hand earlier was not sexual in nature.

 

He genuinely liked Craig.

 

Fuck.

 

Stan pulled back and looked Craig in the eyes before leaning forward and kissing him again. Craig seemed to get the picture, and languidly moved his lips against Stan’s, letting his hands wander up and down his spine, leaving hot shivers in their wake.

 

Stan moved away slowly, speaking in between planting light kissed to Craig’s jawline.

 

“Want to do this again sometime?”

 

Craig felt his face heat up, and he pulled Stan closer to his chest.

 

“Seems kinda gay, doesn’t it?”

 

Stan giggled into his jawline.

 

“Shut the fuck up.”

 

Craig laughed along with him, moving one of his hands from his Stan’s back to find one of his hands once again.

 

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

 

Stan smiled and buried his face in Craig’s neck, his face heating up and his heart bouncing wildly in his chest.

 

“Guess you’re my boyfriend then.”

 

Craig pushed Stan back and feigned surprise, but the affection that was deep seeded in his expression gave him away.

 

“Wait, I never said anything about that.”

 

Stan gave a knowing half-smile and leaned back in, hovering centimeters away from Craig’s lips.

 

“Too bad. You’re stuck with me.”

 

He leaned forward and pressed their lips together again, bringing his arms up to rest gently around Craig’s neck.

 

Yeah. Craig didn’t mind being stuck with Stan one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a little thing I was doing to play around with writing Stan/Craig, but I'll probably do more long-form stuff in the future. I might add a fifth chapter to this that's just fluff and dumb boyfriend shit but I don't know.


End file.
